I'd like to thank you all for playing this game, especially to those who stuck with me from the very beginning. After I've spent some time editing the scenarios, I will most likely try to write a new story set in the World of Coroleya. Feedback, suggestions, and comments are most welcome. You can also show your support by donating through the Patron link below, leaving a review or following me on my facebook page: The Beginning - Breath of War.

I have a few ideas for new stories, but I would keen to hear from people who like to read, and enjoy this type of storytelling.

1. One idea was to write a story about an lowly Minotuar aspiring to be an Honor Blade. Set in the Land of Dreams it would focus on going on quests to build their reputation as a warrior.

2. I already sort of went through this idea in the game, but I do like the thought of returning to Bloodtides to properly study the ways of magic as a dark mage. There you can attain new ranks and positions within the various factions. Fighting foes from within and without.

3. Another idea was to go even further into Gregor's past where you would live a life as a mercenary in the Wingdarts.

Those are the ideas I have so far, but I wouldn't mind hearing more suggestions or ideas from you guys.

As for future plans for this particular story, there is an App Version that should be released some time next year which will hopefully continue the story for me. A word of warning though much of the RPG elements have been taken out unfortunately, but you do still get to make decisions and see how the story continues to unfold.

I'll leave you all with a little snippet of the App Version. Thanks again, it was a wonderful adventure while it lasted.

Intermission – Gregor

From the very start Gregor had always known that there was something strange about the woman in the fur lined coat with delicate features that made her appear so fragile and yet so strong, but at the time he hadn't really paid much attention to her. That is, until she got up from her table to take a seat directly opposite him. Having downed a fair few mugs of finely brewed heart-knocker, he remembered blearily looking up at her, and finding himself instantly entranced by her beauty. Her long, wavy black hair flowing down to her shoulders, light violet colored eyes and full red lips that could draw in any man. Too drunk to really care why she had chosen to move to his table, he continued to drink, trying to drown out the screams that haunted his every waking moment.

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She sat there calmly watching him, her eyes boreing into his, then she spoke, "Hello Gregor, it's time we talked. I have plans that I think you would be perfect for."

"Waittt, how you know me name?"

She smiles at you revealing perfectly white teeth. "I've been watching you for awhile now, Gregor the Savage, but that does not matter. I need your help."

Jerking unsteadily to his feet, he slammed his fist into the table and growled, "That is not my name!"

Undisturbed by the sudden outburst, she smiles again and leans forward to place a slim hand atop his clenched fist. Her hand is so warm, so warm like freshly baked bread recently pulled out of an oven. He looked down into her eyes and felt his anger wash away, drowning in swirling pools of violet...until nothing...

Groaning at the intensity of the burning suns above him, Gregor woke with a start, a splitting headache threatening to pound his brain senseless, his tongue dry as an empty well and the deliriously bright sunlight blinding him. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he sighed heavily, rubbed his mud encrusted cheek, before wearily sitting up in the muck and dirt. Memories of the woman in the fur lined coat replaying through his mind like a hazy dream, that for some reason felt important, but he wasn't sure why. All he could remember from that night was the feeling of being incredibly angry at the world for taking everything that mattered to him away.

Brushing aside his unruly jet black hair, he checked to see, if he still had all his possessions on him and to his surprise he found his last two remaining gold pieces still in his pocket as well as his steel dagger strapped to his waist. Not exactly much to live on, but he had survived on less and in much worse places than this. Besides he'd heard news from the local tavern that the village nearby was looking for hunters to slay prowling silver wolves that were snatching up people in the night. Dangerous work, but well worth risk the seeing as he was almost out of gold and needed the money to fill his belly.

Tilting his head upwards, he stared up into the four suns blistering above him with intense heat, and watched the garishly dressed Elves, Minotaurs and Redlings wander through the streets of Berlem, shooting him looks of disgust as they passed him by. Their clean-faces no doubt wondering why in the abyss he was here, and why the town guard hadn't come to arrest him already for loitering in the streets like this, but he didn't care.

Ignoring their upturned noses and snorts of disapproval, he heaved himself back up onto your feet and leered menacingly at the nearest Elf, who half leapt backwards in fear. Smiling with satisfaction at the young elf's reaction, Gregor brushed a hand across the back of his head feeling the lump again, before turning off down the street.